Worm: Tactical Espionage Action
by SixPerfections
Summary: In this world the major threats of the Endbringers and Scion are gone. That means an era of peace right? Wrong. Politics, War and Money will always be the driving forces of human civilization. Taylor Hebert, ex-Green Beret, is recruited by the PRT to form a new special black ops team called FOXHOUND to hunt down the worst of the worst. In this world nothing is what it seems. AU.
1. Chapter 1: The World of Today

Worm: Tactical Espionage Action (AU)

Chapter 1: The World of Today

Despite her training and typical unfailingly perfect posture Taylor Hebert was beginning to sag in the chair she had been sitting in for the last four hours. She would have gotten up and worked out the kinks that had formed in her back if she wasn't handcuffed to the metal bar bolted-on the table in front of her. Taylor tried not to fidget or show any other signs of weakness though. She knew people had to be watching through the one-way mirror and the cameras that were almost certainly hidden throughout the room.

The thirty-one year old reached out with her powers yet again. Once again she found she couldn't feel a single bug in the building. Either they had found a way to kill all in insects for several city blocks or this room somehow dampened or contained her power. The faint humming she thought she could feel along the walls and ceiling lend credence to this theory. Taylor didn't like it. Since she had triggered in that God-forsaken hellhole of a jungle all those years ago her bugs had become an extension of her reality, another sense she had come to rely on. Suddenly being without them made her feel strangely off balance and vulnerable though she would never let any of that show on her face.

She ached to scratch an itch under the black leather eyepatch that covered her ruined right eye, a gift from a cape whose injuries were almost impossible to heal by any known means. It wasn't that Taylor didn't understand why she was in handcuffs because she most assuredly did. It was the transparent scare tactics and power plays that were pissing her off. Being cut off from her bugs annoyed her, the chair was uncomfortable and she had to pee. There had to be some kind of logic to keeping her isolated and waiting. For the life of her she couldn't think of what they were playing at though. She didn't have any good defense for what she had done. As far as the PRT were concerned this was an open and shut case. Why the hell were they dragging this out?

With nothing better to do Taylor began to focus on her breath as an exercise to sharpen her focus while periodically checking on her bugs just in case the situation had changed.

Eventually the heavy metal door leading out of the interrogation room was thrown open without preamble. In walked a stern faced woman carrying a briefcase who could have been anywhere in her thirties or early forties. She wore a business suit that looked expensive and it wouldn't have surprised Taylor to learn it had been especially tailored. To Taylor's amusement the woman also had an eyepatch over her right eye. This woman seemed to positively radiate authority and a no-nonsense attitude. She was someone Taylor recognized instantly though she had never met the woman in person before.

"Director Costa-Brown," Taylor said evenly hiding her surprise, "I hope you didn't fly all the way out here just for me."

The Director said nothing, instead choosing to take the seat across from her. Taylor watched in silence as Director Costa-Brown opened her briefcase and made a show of looking one of the files.

"Six murders Miss Hebert," said the Director before looking at Taylor with her one hard unyielding eye, "perhaps you can explain that to me."

 _Why is the Director here talking to me?_ Taylor scowled at the question. "I'm sure you've read a report on it by now or someone's briefed you. You already know all the relevant facts."

"Humor me," said the Director in a voice that left no room for doubt that it was an order.

Taylor sat up straight and took a moment to compose her thoughts. "The villain cape known as Acetone and five members of his gang had just shot my partner to death in front of me. I lost my temper."

"And killed all of them."

"Yes," said Taylor without an ounce of remorse, "I did."

There was a beat of silence. "None of them had kill orders on them. It was within your abilities to take them down non-lethally," Director Costa-Brown stated.

Taylor nodded. "It was."

"Then why didn't you?"

Taylor bit the inside of cheek. "Because when the enemy is willing to use lethal force on you and your people the only appropriate response is to respond in kind. If they didn't want to die they shouldn't have started a war."

Costa-Brown gave Taylor a long hard look that the bug user couldn't read. "You're no longer in the Army Ms Hebert. This isn't Zanzibar. You are no longer a Green Beret. You are a member of the Protectorate and have been for the last two years. You know you are not authorized to use lethal force unless your life or the life of others are in imminent danger and there is no other choice. You crossed the line Ms Hebert."

Taylor wanted to keep her cool but she could feel anger rising at the callousness of the Director's words and tone. "So you're saying since Robin was already dead and I wasn't in any immediate danger they get to just walk away?"

"No. They get a trial just like any other criminal. Or they would have if you hadn't decided to take justice into your own hands," said the Director dispassionately.

Costa-Brown stared Taylor down but Taylor refused to be cowed and stared right back. She wasn't ashamed of what she'd done and wasn't sorry in the least. Robin had been a good friend and a good man. The ones who killed him deserved what she did to them. If Director Costa-Brown had come all this way to fill her with remorse then she was going to be sorely disappointed. Maybe she was just digging her own grave even deeper but she couldn't bring herself to pretend she thought she had been in the wrong.

If that meant the Birdcage then so be it. She had never adjusted back to civilian life very well anyway.

Eventually the Director must have been satisfied, or at least confident, in what she saw in Taylor's hard gaze. She reached into her briefcase and produced another file, opening it on the table and leafing through it.

"What do you know about the Parahuman bill currently being proposed in the Senate?" asked the Director.

Taylor blinked, thrown off by the radical shift in topics. The former Green Beret answered cautiously. This was something she had been paying close attention to. _What is her game here?_ "Senator Armstrong is proposing the so-called Parahuman Military Service Act. He wants to change things so Parahumans would be able to enlist in the armed forces and serve openly. It's still in the early stages but according to the papers the bill is supposed to have a lot of bi-partisan support even though it's still considered controversial."

"That is essentially correct," said Costa-Brown, not bothering to look up from the file she was looking through, "how do you feel about the proposal?"

This was something she had thought long and hard about. There were a lot of pros and cons either way. "I'm undecided Director."

"Oh?" said Costa-Brown. Taylor didn't know if the woman was genuinely surprised or was being slightly mocking. "I thought for sure you would support Parahumans in the military given your unique and colorful experience. In fact your effectiveness in the field while in the military – and that of the few other Parahumans in a situation similar to yours – is one of Senator Armstrong's strongest arguments in favor of this bill."

Taylor had definitely not known that. Very few things rattled her but the thought of her name getting thrown around on the floor of the United States Senate made her feel profoundly uncomfortable.

In most First World militaries including the United States Parahumans were not allowed to join the military. All dealings with Parahumans were by law the purview of the PRT (Parahuman Response Team) in the United States of America. At the time that system had been set down there had been many concerns about allowing Parahumans in the armed forces, not the least of which was the danger of setting off a world-wide "arms race" as countries around the world rushed to militarize and weaponize their capes.

There was one loophole in the system though. If a Parahuman triggered while already in the armed forces they would generally be allowed to complete their tour of duty before being sent back into the civilian world and into the arms of the PRT. Taylor's case though – Taylor had been different.

General David Oh became aware of her almost as soon as she triggered and had Taylor transferred over to his command in the US Army Special Operations Command in Fort Bragg. Then he pretended he didn't know she existed. For eight years it was very hush-hush. There was a 'suspected' Parahuman somewhere in the ranks when enemy positions where inexplicably attacked by swarms of insects. Taylor became the first woman to graduate from Green Beret training school and it was something of an open secret that she was 'special'. Eventually after serving eight years in the special forces the PRT got wind of it somehow and started making a stink. Taylor was honorably discharged soon afterwards and went to work as a member of the Protectorate.

Even though she had worked for them for two years Taylor had never quite forgiven the PRT for ruining her career in Special Operations Command and taking her away from her men.

Still, the Parahuman Military Service Act made her uncomfortable because she knew how easy it was for the higher ups to start seeing Parahumans as weapons, simple assets to be deployed like a tank or a missile system. Even though she greatly admired and respected General Oh there were times where his attitude towards her made her uneasy. That had been the case even though the General had taken her under his wing and knew her personally. How much worse could it have been if the one giving her orders and setting her missions had been someone she didn't know? Taylor was glad she'd never had to find out. Still she had done a lot of good with her powers and she knew she had kept a lot of good men safe – especially when the _other_ side wasn't so noble about keeping capes out of the military. In a way Taylor was glad she wouldn't be the one making those decisions.

"Like I said Director, I'm undecided," said Taylor as she bit back the urge to ask why she was even being asked about this. Even though it was a small thing asking first would give the woman a conversational advantage.

They were both silent for a few long minutes and Taylor got the impression Costa-Brown was trying to make her sweat. It didn't work, though it was annoying to just sit there in silence while the Director read (or pretended to read) through a file. Taylor wouldn't be the first to crack and ask a question in their little battle of wills. Normally she didn't care for that kind of grandstanding but since she was likely to be charged for murder soon she figured she'd make an exception.

After almost exactly ten minutes on the dot Director Costa-Brown put the file away, interlaced her fingers on the desk and looked at Taylor seriously.

"What I'm about to discuss with you cannot leave this room. If it does the PRT will come at you with everything it has. At that point ending up in the Birdcage would be the best that you could hope for. Is that clear?" asked Costa-Brown.

Taylor looked at the Director coolly with her one eye at the implied threat. Still Taylor was no stranger at being privy to classified information. Slowly she nodded. "Yes ma'am. Crystal."

The Director scrutinized for a long moment before starting. "The PRT and the Protectorate have always been criticized for not doing a good enough job in controlling and dissuading Parahuman crime. In recent years the situation has been getting worse. Our effectiveness is not what it once was and it will take years yet for us to fully recover."

"Does this have anything to do with that 'training exercise' where half the senior Protectorate capes were in Siberia when Scion spontaneously decided to explode three years ago?" Taylor asked bluntly.

It was the greatest fodder for conspiracy theorists in the last century. You didn't have to be a genius to know the whole thing stunk and was beyond suspicious. At seemingly the last minute nearly a hundred of the Protectorate's most experienced capes were teleported to the middle of Siberia for a 'training exercise'. Next thing you know Scion, who just happened to be in the same area, explodes taking out Mongolia, half of China and a good chunk of Kazakhstan. Suddenly the Golden Man is dead and only a handful of the Protectorate capes survive the explosion and make it back alive. Eidolon has been in a coma for the last three years that nobody seems able to wake him up from.

It wasn't hard to imagine the "Scion Incident" seriously damaged the effectiveness of the PRT in the United States. Few organizations can weather the loss of so many senior personnel. It didn't help that there was rampant speculation and wild accusations that the Protectorate had somehow conspired to assassinate Scion.

Ridiculous of course. But whatever had truly happened probably wouldn't see the light of day for a long time, if ever.

The Director did not look at all amused by her question. "Yes the tragic loss of senior personnel in that unfortunate incident is what has allowed the criminal situation to deteriorate across the board. What you need to understand is ultimately reasons matter little in the eye of the public, only results do. Our political enemies – those who oppose how Parahumans are managed in this country – are seeking to use the situation to push through their political agenda. The Parahuman Military Service Act will fail but I believe this is only the first of such bills that will be proposed in the near future. The PRT cannot allow such laws to come to pass."

How was she so sure the bill was going to fail?

Taylor could follow the logic and hidden subtext of everything else the Director was saying though. If all of a sudden the US Armed Forces became a viable option for Parahumans it would severely undercut the monopoly the PRT has on handling capes and cape relations. All of a sudden other branches of the government can tell capes what to do and go over the head of the PRT. Once you begin there, how far will it go? Will the CIA want Parahumans next? The FBI? The ATF? How long until the PRT becomes less and less relevant? Taylor could see how such a precedent could scare them.

At the same time… "It really isn't the place of a government or quasi-government agency to decide what laws do or don't pass Director," she said to Costa-Brown.

The Director's one visible eye was like steel. "It is in the best interests of everyone involved and the world at large if Parahumans remain the sole purview of the PRT. The PRT leadership is prepared to go to considerable lengths to make sure this remains the case."

Ah. There it was. This is why the Director felt the need to threaten Taylor before they began this little conversation. If the wrong journalist, oversight committee or politician heard those words it would likely kick up a political shit storm of epic proportions. Heads would roll if it could be proven. She wasn't positive but Taylor was pretty sure there were laws against this type of thing. At the very least a lot of people would lose their jobs.

Still that didn't answer the sixty-four thousand dollar question. "What does this have to do with me? As far as I know I'm hours away from being charged on multiple counts of murder."

"Tell me Miss Hebert. What do you know about how kill orders are issued?" asked Costa-Brown.

Taylor was starting to get tired of these seemingly random directions the Director was taking their conversation. There was also something ominous about all this, something that was setting off all the alarm bells in her head. In fact everything about this situation stank, starting with the Director flying two and a half hours by air to come see her. Still there was nothing for her to do but play along.

"From what I understand the big wigs at the PRT go to a Federal Judge to make a case that X or Y individual merits a kill order. The Judge approves it and then the Protectorate gets the green light," said Taylor. It wasn't something they'd gone into depth during her training in how to be a good little Protectorate cape and she frankly hadn't bothered to look it up further.

"It's not nearly as simple as that," said Costa-Brown with a note in her voice that made Taylor think of long frustration. "In essence what happens is that the cape in question gets a trial _in absentia_ in those situations. It works just like a regular trial except the defendant isn't present. One of our attorneys must present evidence, bring forward witness testimony, establish a timeline, establish method, motive and opportunity, all of it. The defendant also gets his own attorney provided by the government and it is his job to tear apart all our evidence and make sure we cannot cross that 'beyond reasonable doubt' threshold in the eyes of the Judge. The overwhelming majority of the time what ends up happening is that the Judge denies our request for a kill order. Everyone is placed under very strict scrutiny in those situations and most often than not the Judges will air on the side of caution to avoid the possibility of criticism or future disciplinary action if something untoward is found at a later date. The end result is that many well-known monsters and murderers go without a kill order when they rightly deserve it. The Teeth, The Red Sun, Dead Cell, Outer Heaven. All savage killers, all groups where we tried to get kill orders and failed for some or all of their members."

"It could just be that the Judges are leery of depriving American citizens of their God-given right to life," said Taylor flippantly.

Costa-Brown gave Taylor a flat unamused look. "The two newest members of the Slaughterhouse Nine do not technically have kill orders yet because we haven't 'collected enough evidence' of their crimes. Your file tells me you're not the type of idealistic fool who would be ok with that."

Taylor's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She had not known that little factoid. "Wait, we are _not_ authorized to kill some of the nine?" she asked incredulously.

"Technically no. Realistically nobody would let a hero go down for taking out a person who chooses to associate with _that_ group. Still the fact that we have a hard time getting kill orders even for members of the nine should be a testament to how profoundly flawed the kill order system has become. It is a broken system that frankly no longer lets us do our jobs. If it ever did."

Taylor forgot how to breathe for a moment. _So that's it_. She had a pretty good idea where this was going now. _You opportunistic bitch_.

"So what do you want me for?" said Taylor, this time more sharply and forcefully than before. The eight year veteran of the Army Special Forces was now rearing her head.

"We want you to put together a team," said Costa-Brown, "to do the things that we legally aren't allowed to do. This needs to be a group of capes that have no ties to the Protectorate or the PRT."

Truthfully Taylor didn't know whether to sneer or feel excited. "You're putting together a black ops team," Taylor stated.

"Yes," answered Director Costa-Brown plainly without a hint of hesitation or remorse.

Black ops or black operations were called that because they were almost uniformly illegal or amoral. They were things the parent organization wanted done but didn't want linked to them in any way. One of the most important things in black ops was 'plausible deniability'. If a team like that screwed up and got caught they were often up shit creek without a paddle… which in this case usually meant any combination of imprisonment, torture and death.

But what Costa-Brown was asking was actually far worse than black ops conducted by the military. At least the military will make every effort to recover captured or wounded soldiers in a typical black ops team. Taylor had the feeling that the same courtesy would not extend to what the Director was asking her to do. If she and her hypothetical team got caught trying to kill someone or doing something else illegal they were on their own. If they were caught by the nine or any other group of crazies they would be on their own. If they exposed themselves the Protectorate would even have to go after them the same way they would any other criminal. Christ.

"You have to think about this Director," said Taylor in a voice asking her to see reason, "a secret black opts team doing… what, hits on dangerous capes you can't get a kill order for? Those kinds of things have a way of getting out. You and everyone else at the PRT leadership could hang for this."

"Believe me Ms Hebert we have taken all possible risks and benefits into account," Costa-Brown said crisply, "This is how it will work: you get to choose a target from a number of different ones we give you. These targets will be selected for maximum impact. When high-profile, previously untouchable villains start dying or disappearing one by one people will take notice. More specifically the criminal underworld will take notice."

"And given how our conversation started you think that this will reduce crime? And thus raise your popularity and political clout in Washington?" Taylor asked skeptically.

"This would be just one facet of a multi-pronged attack on the problem but yes, you are essentially correct. Our models predict that if you are successful it will have a greater impact on nationwide crime than you might imagine. Also the criminals will suspect the PRT and to a lesser extent the Protectorate were responsible thus further cementing our reputation in the criminal underworld."

"How do you figure the criminals will attribute something like that to you?" asked Taylor, a little fascinated despite herself.

Director Costa-Brown gave her a cool humorless smile. "Because we will spread those rumors of course. If your team is successful the gossip everywhere will be that the PRT is responsible. Politicians will wonder but without solid evidence they can't go on a witch hunt without losing political capital. Criminals on the other hand have a much lower threshold for accepting something as 'truth'. When they start realizing that the worst of their number suddenly start dying or going missing inexplicably they will quickly reach the conclusion that violent crime and civilian fatalities come with even greater danger than they previously believed. Fear of the unknown will help keep the criminal element in check across the country until the Protectorate is once again as strong as it needs to be."

Taylor could see it. As sketchy as this whole mess was Taylor couldn't deny that someone out there taking out the worst of the worst would be good for everyone in the grander scheme of things. In the Army and later the Green Berets Taylor learned about sometimes having to do bad things for good reasons. Still...

"Yes," said Taylor a little dubiously, "it's very convenient for you then that the perfect candidate to head up your little initiative, me, just happened to serve herself up on a platter for you."

"Yes. Aren't we lucky," said Costa-Brown dryly. To Taylor's annoyance her face was completely unreadable.

Taylor sighed. "Even though it's pretty self-evident I have to ask: what happens if I say no?"

"If you say no you will be prosecuted for the six unsanctioned deaths you caused today. Depending on the judge and the jury you may or may not end up in the Birdcage. In either case you'd never see the light of day again," the Director said dispassionately.

Yep. That was about what she expected. "And what happens if I say yes?"

"We will arrange – at considerable trouble and expense – for this whole incident to quietly go away. You will then immediately begin your assignment: to recruit and train a team to carry out the operations we give you. Expect the situation to be fluid and your living arrangements to be mobile for the foreseeable future. A liaison will be assigned to you. He will be your point of contact between you and us and will make sure that things run smoothly. Depending on your performance he may authorize additional requisitions of personnel or equipment. Any other details can be worked out later."

Taylor frowned at that. "Will this 'liaison' be looking over my shoulder questioning my every move? Because I can't work like that."

"No. You and your team will be on your own. I expect most of your contact with him will be over secure communications. Again we can work out the details later," said Costa-Brown with just a small hint of impatience. _Probably a pressure tactic_.

Taylor would have rubbed her face if her hands weren't handcuffed to the metal table. Run illegal black ops with little safety net taking out some of the worst scum out there or go to prison for the rest of her life? It wasn't really a hard choice… even if she had that twisting feeling in her gut that told her she was getting into something she would later come to regret.

"All right Director. I can't say I don't sometimes miss the days when I could just shoot the bad guys instead of taking them down as gently as possible," said Taylor in dark humor, "I'm in."

The Director gave her a tight smile. "Good. Read this file," she said, reaching into her briefcase and putting a thick folder in front of her. "It should be enough to get you started. Resources. Staging grounds. Potential recruits. The works. You'll be released by the end of the week. Someone should be by to take you back to your cell soon."

"Right," said Taylor. Even though it seemed like the Director had bailed her out of a tight spot with this offer she didn't quite feel like the woman deserved a 'thank you'.

Director Costa-Brown packed up her briefcase and stood to leave. She had her hand on the door handle before she turned and spoke. "By the way Ms Hebert just so you know… that evidence of those six murders you're responsible for? It could resurface at any time should you decide to cross us. Remember that." Then she turned and calmly walked out the door.

 _Bitch,_ though Taylor, _and a hard-ass. Then again people used to say the same thing about me. Maybe it's the eyepatch?_

Shaking her head Taylor decided to hold off on thinking and looked at the file in front of her. It was stamped as Classified and Top Secret.

Taylor opened the file and read the header. It was the designation of her new team.

High-Tech Special Parahuman Unit FOXHOUND


	2. Chapter 2: The Vigilante

Worm: Tactical Espionage Action (AU)

Chapter 2: The Vigilante

Looking at things optimistically Taylor could say she was a free woman now. She wasn't in prison and she was out doing something that she believed in. However that would certainly be painting an overly rosy picture of her situation. In truth she felt like there was a gun leveled at her head. Play ball or we'll make you a wanted fugitive at best, a smoldering corpse at worst. Truth was she would have probably taken this assignment without the threats involved. Having been forced into the situation she was in left a sour taste in her mouth.

Taylor was going to have to see about either getting some leverage of her own or planning an exit strategy. Being at Director Costa-Brown's mercy held little appeal to her long term. If the Director thought she was going to have Taylor Hebert at her mercy indefinitely then the woman really didn't know who she was dealing with.

Taylor looked out the airplane window at the passing clouds as the sun set over the horizon. She was on a commercial flight and she had always had a preference for window seats. Technically they were tactically the worst seat to have but Taylor couldn't deprive herself of the pleasure of looking down at the world from thirty thousand feet. It always somehow helped her think and put things into perspective as well as calming her emotions. If there was any trouble the tens of thousands of bugs she had snuck into the airplane before takeoff would help her take care of anything unforeseen.

As she sat she went over her situation over and over again in her mind. The more she thought about it the more she realized this was the type of thing she wanted to be doing. In the two years she had been working for the Protectorate she never felt like she had quite fit in. Sure she had become good friends with her partner Robin Swoyer and a few others but Taylor had never felt the whole 'hero' and 'paragons of virtue' attitude they were encouraged to embody for the sake of good PR. In some ways it felt rather ridiculous, like they were expected not only to fight crime but to make a family-friendly spectacle of themselves. Once upon a time, in middle school and high school, she had wanted to be a hero. However that person had died a long time ago.

No, a hero wasn't who she was. Deep inside she still saw herself as a soldier first and foremost. Someone entrusted to carry out missions and neutralize hostile personnel when necessary. This was a chance to do potentially huge amounts of good while doing what she did best. It wasn't an opportunity she wanted to squander even if her recruitment had been unpleasant. Taylor figured that, for now, she would just have to take the good along with the bad.

She couldn't deny that part of her was thrilled and excited by this undertaking despite the circumstances. Still not everything about her current mission was to her satisfaction.

A sudden ringing in her ear startled Taylor which only physically manifested with a momentary agitation of her bugs. It sounded like a digital telephone ring. Taylor took a second to remember what was causing that noise – she had been given a few toys after being released not the least of which was a tiny Tinkertech device inserted deep into her ear canal.

*Ring ring – Ring ring*

Before leaving she had been trained in the use of the device. The earpiece not only had a battery that could last years and could transmit securely from anywhere on Earth, it also picked up subvocal vibrations and translated them into intelligible sound. She knew many team leaders in Special Forces Command who would give their right leg for that type of advanced communication system.

Putting one hand to her ear Taylor did her best to subvocally say "connect". It must have been good enough because there was a distinctive sound of the line connecting.

"Yes?" asked Taylor subvocally having a good idea of who was calling her.

 _"Taylor Hebert?"_ came a voice from her earpiece. The voice was rough, masculine and sounded annoyed like it was a major waste of his time to even be getting in contact with her. Two words and Taylor was already starting to dislike him.

"That's right," Taylor replied in a neutral tone.

 _"I've been assigned to be your contact with the Protectorate and the PRT,"_ the voice said without preamble, _"you'll be reporting to me. Requisitions, requests for intel, funding, anything and everything goes through me. I'm also aware of your criminal situation and frankly I'm not impressed. Though I suppose being a proven murder makes you ideal for this assignment."_

 _What… a fucking prick._ This was her handler? Taylor had to wonder if Costa-Brown had picked out somebody especially aggravating and abrasive on purpose or if she was just that lucky. "I understand what our respective roles are," said Taylor, hiding her distaste with a crisp professional tone, "what is you name?"

 _"You may call me… Defiant."_

 _Not even going to give me his actual name. I guess that means I'm not especially trusted anymore. Not exactly a surprise but still feels kind of shitty._ "I see. Well 'Defiant', to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

 _"This is call is standard procedure so each of us is aware of who the other is working with. According to my information you'll be arriving in Brockton Bay in a few hours. I'd like to know just why you're going to that city,"_ said Defiant in a tone that was more than a little demanding.

"What do you think I'm doing?" replied Taylor with bite in her voice, "I'm going there to recruit an asset. There's someone there on the list of potential recruits that I want for my team."

 _"So this has nothing to do with visiting your old hometown?"_

Taylor grit her teeth. "No. There's nothing for me there. Trust me I wouldn't go near Brockton Bay if it wasn't for work."

There were a few moments of silence before Defiant spoke again. _"That checks out. So I see who it is you have in mind for recruitment. Not someone I would exactly consider a team player or willing to follow orders."_

"Well even though there were a lot of names in that file Costa-Brown gave me none of them are exactly first-stringers in the cape world. I'm left with trying to find diamonds in the rough. At least half of the people on that list had powers that frankly weren't that impressive or useful and most of the ones left are either criminals or former criminals."

 _"Well then you should get along just fine with them,"_ Defiant said bluntly.

Taylor clenched her jaw. "You have something you want to say Defiant?"

 _"Other than I think placing someone who lost control of her emotions and killed six people in a rage in charge of an illegal black ops team is stupid? That you should have been 'caged? No that about sums up the concerns I have about you Ms Hebert."_

Even though she wanted to be mad at him – and she was – the words struck close to home. Losing control and going on a killing spree was _not_ something she had ever thought she would do. She had never lost control like that before even when she'd lost men on the battlefield. When she thought back to that moment it was like… it was like…

Suddenly her head started to hurt.

No, she had been mad that those assholes had killed Robin and she gave them what they deserved. That was all there was to it.

"So I lost my cool when my partner was gunned down in front of me. You know it happened, I know it happened. And you know what? I'm not sorry in the least. I don't need you to like me Defiant I just need you to do your job and be a professional. Do you think you can bring yourself to do that with me?" she asked, suddenly feeling tired.

There was a long silence before Defiant spoke. _"The only reason I agreed to take on this assignment is that things are just that desperate. You keep civilian casualties to zero and I'll make sure you get what you need. If you don't you and I are going to have a serious problem Ms Hebert."_

Well, that was the best she was going to get and nothing less than what she expected. "I've never in my career targeted noncombatants or put civilians at risk unnecessarily. Despite what you might think of me I'm not so far gone as to want the blood of civvies on my hands."

 _"Fine. But I'll be keeping a close eye on you."_

"Wasn't that your job in the first place?" asked Taylor cynically.

 _"Don't get cute. Before we log off was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? I'm a very busy man."_

"Yeah actually… I'm going to need a facility and I'm going to need to bring in some people in order to train my new team…"

o0O0o

As Taylor walked through the airport she drew a lot of looks. The former Green Beret knew it wasn't because she was especially beautiful or anything of the sort. In fact just the opposite might be closer to the truth. No the simple fact was that she was unusual and the unusual always drew attention.

Taylor Hebert was a tall woman just shy of six feet and rail thin. Those who felt generous called it a "runway figure" though most of the boys on her team at Fort Bragg had taken to jokingly refer to her as having the figure of an Ethiopian runner. Taylor couldn't help but think they were being the most honest especially with how ridiculously fit she kept her body. Once upon a time her hair had been her pride and joy as a woman but her Special Forces instructor had refused to let her keep it. Now years later she was used to (and rather enjoyed) her chin-length black hair. Her black eyepatch over her right eye complete with scars peeking above and below it sealed her fate as the most unique and interesting person to look at in most crowded places at any given moment.

Wearing a grey pantsuit and having no figure to speak of Taylor knew she looked more than a small bit mannish but frankly she had ceased to care about that type of thing a long time ago. If there was one thing she had learned was that you couldn't please everyone and there were plenty of people out there who found her attractive enough.

Taylor arrived in Brockton Bay with nothing but a hand held travel bag filled with two changes of clothes, toiletries, her wallet and a new PRT issued phone and laptop (both which she was sure were completely untraceable back to them). It was time to get the first member of her new team on board. Taylor had chosen to come to Brockton Bay first in part because out of all the Parahumans she had her eye on this one seemed like a sure bet. After reading her file Taylor didn't think she would have a hard time convincing this one. Plus her power, while not exactly earth-shatteringly powerful, was perfect for what she had in mind.

Still there was always an element of uncertainty in recruitment pitches. Taylor had studied up as much as she could on her subject. There was no reason to put this off longer than necessary.

Stepping out of Brockton Bay International Taylor hailed a cab and gave the man direction. Forty minutes later they were outside a large solid government building. After paying her fare Taylor strode inside like she owned the place, chin held high and a severe look on her face that had caused many new recruits at SOC to quail in fear at the sight of her. She briefly eyed the grey and black sign that proudly announced "Brockton Bay Juvenile Correctional Facility."

Taylor walked up to the receptionist who quailed a little at seeing her serious expression, her eyepatch and her scars.

"Tylor Hebert. I have an appointment to speak to one of your inmates," she spoke in a no-nonsense fashion.

The woman behind the desk stared a bit at the unusual sight in front of her before her brain rebooted. "Uh, of course. Yes, yes I have it right here. You're a few minutes early but that shouldn't be a problem. If you'll just show me your ID and come over this way…"

After reading and signing a small stack of forms Taylor was led through a twisting maze of hallways. If it wasn't for the bugs in the building it might have been a bit disorienting. Eventually she was led by a guard though a metal door to a large room with a half dozen metal tables and chairs bolted to the floor. Normally they would be full of people visiting inmates but Taylor had arrived after hours. Only special arrangements had made it possible to speak to the person she was recruiting after dark.

Taylor sat down and pulled out her new high-tech phone and set it down on the table before folding her fingers to wait patiently. Ten minutes later another door opened and the prisoner she had come to see was escorted in. Her hands were handcuffed together in front of her and she was wearing a too-big orange jumpsuit. The girl was maybe five-seven, had dark skin and hostile brown eyes. She had an attractive chiseled feminine face with a strong jaw. When her eyes landed on Taylor they widened slightly before quickly settling into uncertainty and suspicion. Something about how she held herself told Taylor that the girl was a rather proud person but that her current ordeal had been taking a toll on her.

After being prodded by the guard the girl sat down sulkily in front of Taylor. Yes the girl had most definitely been feeling the pressure and it was weighing her down. She looked exhausted and there were heavy bags under her eyes. By the look she was giving Taylor the girl didn't seem to think the older woman's presence was good news. Time to change her mind.

Her new phone was Tinker-tech with a lot of neat features in it. With the push of a button Taylor activated a number of countermeasures that would prevent anyone from eaves dropping on their conversation. The kinds of things that were to be discussed really shouldn't be recorded anywhere for everyone's benefit.

"Sophia Hess," Taylor began, "my name is Taylor Hebert. I'm associated with the Protectorate and the PRT."

Sophia's eyes widened in realization before they narrowed in a hostile glare. Well. Taylor couldn't exactly blame her for such a reaction.

"What the hell do you want? Last time I talked to one of you guys it was Piggy telling me ' _the Protectorate is done with you for good Ms Hess. These men will escort you to a holding cell pending trial'_ " Sophia said using a high pitched nasally voice. How very mature.

"By 'Piggy' I assume you mean the East-North-East Director Emily Piggot?" asked Taylor in a casual disinterested voice.

Sophia seemed a little puzzled but her suspicious frown didn't ease. "Yeah, who else? You're not from the Bay then?"

 _Good. It does seem like she has a working brain._ "No I am not based out of Brockton Bay. I flew in from out of town to speak to you specifically."

"Uh-huh," said Sophia suspiciously but Taylor could tell there was a hidden strand of… hope? In there somewhere, "is there a reason this conversation couldn't wait until morning? It's way after lights out and as far as I knew there were no exceptions to the visitation rules."

"I'm a busy woman Hess. I wasn't going to wait until tomorrow if I didn't have to," Taylor said. Without even thinking about it she had fallen into the military habit of calling people by their last names. Deciding there was no good reason to not do that Taylor decided to just go with it.

"Ok, yeah," said Sophia, leaning back and slouching on her chair with her hands on her lap. "so why don't you tell me what this is all about?"

Time to frame the story. Taylor was a little bit uncomfortable doing this… not the least of which was because it felt a bit too similar to what Director Costa-Brown had done to her just days before. Still this was really in Hess's best interest in the long run, Taylor was sure. She just needed to get the girl to see that.

"I spoke with the Assistant District Attorney on the phone just hours ago about your case. It seems they have decided to try you as an adult," Taylor said carefully and as gently as she dared. Hess's reaction was instantaneous.

Her eyes widened in fear and her skin paled. She kind of bent over onto herself as if she wanted to roll into a ball but was too proud to do it in front of someone else. Then a few moments later she straightened out and looked Taylor, eyes angry and a little wild.

"How do I even know you're telling the truth? My lawyer said we wouldn't know until tomorrow at the earliest and that there was a good chance I would still be tried as a minor." It made Taylor uncomfortable to see how hard Hess was trying to hold it together.

Taylor shrugged with one shoulder. "The way he made it sound was that he went with Director Piggot's recommendation to have you charged as an adult. If that is the case then the decision was probably made some time ago. The DA's office was probably just waiting for what they felt was a good time before they announced it."

Sophia looked at Taylor wide eyed, face locked in disbelief and in the pain of seeing your whole future fall apart. It was, truth be told, heart wrenching to watch.

Then Sophia Hess exploded.

"SON OF A BITCH!" she screamed and jumped up out of her chair.

It was a good thing both the chairs and table were bolted to the ground because Sophia made an effort to throw them both but failed. She briefly went transparent and shadow like (so that was her power looked like) before she rematerialized with a yell. Her ankle monitor had given her a nasty shock. In her frustration she brought her hands together and with a wild scream slammed them down on the surface of the metal table. She hit the table a half dozen times screaming incoherently.

Damn. This one was going to be a handful wasn't she? Taylor sighed internally. _Well no one said this assignment was going to be easy._

The guard had started to jog towards Sophia but Taylor stopped him with a harsh glare. The man stopped and after hesitating backed away. It seemed the PRT had a lot of pull in this place.

Standing up Taylor moved to the screaming Sophia and slapped her across the face hard enough to get her attention. That just seemed to redirect Sophia's anger towards Taylor. Even handcuffed the girl charged and tried to hit her, aiming with a wild overhand swing. Taylor side stepped, grabbed Sophia's wrist and swept out her feet from under her in one smooth motion forcibly making the girl sit back down in her chair. When Sophia went to struggle to get up again Taylor grabbed her hand and put her in a painful thumb luck. The girl screamed in pain as the connective tissue hyperextended. Hess sputtered and cursed and ranted… but using some good-old fashioned pain conditioning it wasn't even two minutes before Sophia was fully subdued, breathing hard and glaring but no longer fighting.

"Now. Did you get that out of your system?" Taylor said in a flat unamused voice as she stared Sophia down with her single intimidating eye.

To her credit Sophia actually managed to glare back for a few seconds before her resolve broke first and she looked away. Aw crap. Now she looked like she might start crying. _I'm so not equipped for this kind of shit_. Well some happy news should cheer her up right?

"Hess," Taylor began in the tone of voice she used for unruly recruits, "now listen here. If you stop your blubbering I can actually tell you why I came here in the first place. I have an offer for you that might be able to keep you out of prison and get you out of juvie. Now are you going to sit and listen calmly like a sane person or do I need to have the guard haul your ass back to your cell?"

That seemed to do the trick. Young people, especially when charged up with out of control emotions, were (generally speaking) incredibly easy for her to read and Sophia Hess was no exception. Taylor could see the desperation in her eyes and Taylor knew the girl would agree to anything she asked as long as it kept her out of prison.

It honestly made Taylor feel kind of guilty. Even after all the stupid shit she had done Sophia was still just a kid who obviously had problems. Dragging her into a black ops team formed to do wetwork was hardly going to do the girl any favors mentally.

 _Still,_ thought Taylor, _I'm going to make sure she knows exactly what she'd be getting into. If this kid still wants to join well… I suppose I'll just have to do my best to watch out for her._

o0O0o

A minute later they were seated across from each other again. Sophia, who had first come in still looking proud and somewhat defiant, now looked somewhat desperate. There was a certain wildness around her eyes Taylor wasn't sure she liked. The older woman at that point felt Sophia would agree to work at a cathouse if it kept her out of prison. Taylor held back the urge to sigh. Well there was no way she would go forward with this without doing her due diligence.

"So," began Taylor, "you used to be a vigilante by the name of Shadow Stalker. The Protectorate arrested you after they found out you had almost killed a man with one of your crossbow bolts. Instead of sending you to juvie they took you on as a probationary member of the Wards. By all reports you never got along with any of your teammates. Two months ago someone pieced together that you were still going out patrolling at unauthorized times with lethal munitions. It said on your file that you are suspected of causing the death of one drug dealer and critically injuring three other gang members over a period of three months. How am I doing so far?"

Sophia swallowed, doing her best to keep her chin high and look strong. "That's what you read in my file, right? Don't have much to add to that. The DA seems to think they got enough on me for a conviction."

Taylor ignored her. "Due to and I quote 'the especially vicious and violent' nature of your crimes they want to try you as an adult. That means at best one count of manslaughter and three counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. That's at least twenty years of hard time in a federal penitentiary. Luckily because of the nature of your powers and the fact you committed the crimes while still a minor you're unlikely to get Birdcaged."

Sophia looked off to the side, clearly disturbed. She must have known all this already but must have held out hope that having committed the crimes as a minor would shield her from the worst of it. Sure enough her next words were: "This whole thing is bullshit. I don't know why Piggot is trying so hard to fuck me even more. Everyone knows if you do crimes as minor you get a lighter sentence."

"That's actually not even close to being true," Taylor said, "children as young as eleven years old have been tried as adults in this country. Basically you're only guaranteed to get tried as a minor if the powers that be decide your crime isn't severe enough. You can't murder people and expect to get off anymore just because you're under eighteen. Besides you'll be eighteen in five days and you were seventeen when you committed the crimes you're about to be charged with. That doesn't spark a lot of sympathy."

The girl swallowed thickly. "Yeah. I suppose I can see that. So… listen lady, you said you had some kind of deal. If you're trying to make me sweat then consider it mission fucking accomplished. What is it you want?"

 _Right. Let's jump right into it._ Taylor took a moment to gather her thoughts before she spoke. "I said I was affiliated with the Protectorate and the PRT. That's because I'm putting together a team that won't be associated with the PRT or Protectorate in any… official capacity. This team will be comprised entirely of capes and will be led by me. The deal is that you come and work for me. If you do that in ten years you'll be set up with a new identity and a clean record. At that point you'll be a free woman, free to do whatever you want. Until then you belong to me. And trust me I'll make you work your ass off, but we'll also be out there getting our hands dirty and doing good work."

Sophia bit the inside of her lip looking intrigued. Still she asked questions instead of immediately saying 'yes'. That earned her a couple of points in Taylor's book. "So going by what you just said I guess that means you're a cape?"

Taylor nodded once.

"What's you power?" Sophia asked.

"You'll find out if you take the deal," said Taylor.

Sophia nodded at that looking thoughtful. "Ok fair enough. So… why me? If I had to guess it has something to do with the 'work' you'll be doing?"

"Why you?" asked Taylor sardonically, "I'll give it to your straight kid. You're not afraid to get your hands dirty and I need someone like that. Most kids your age balk at potentially life-or-death violence but it doesn't seem to bother you too much. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing but it's something I need. Your power will be extremely useful and frankly you're the only half-decent candidate I found with a Stranger rating. Finally you're young. I'm going to have to beat some serious training into you if you're going to be of any use as part of my team. Young people handle being trained and molded to an expected role better than older people do. The fact that you're in a bind ugly enough to want to accept my deal without too much of a fuss also played a role in your selection."

Sophia was silent for a long time. "So… you're saying you're recruiting me for an 'unofficial' team that will handle 'life-or-death violence' and that my willingness to put the serious hurt on the scum out there is a plus. Is that about right?"

"Yes," said Taylor simply.

Sophia gave her a long questioning look. "That sounds like some seriously shady shit, you know that right?"

Taylor gave her a tight humorless smile. "Oh you have no idea."

Sophia looked both intrigued and a bit unsettled by that. "Why don't you tell me more about what I'd be doing?"

"Sorry but if you decide not to join I can't have you knowing too many details. All I can say is that this will be hard, probably the hardest thing you've done in your entire life. But we'll be doing good work. You also have my personal guarantee… that I'll do my best to watch out for you, on and off the field. Teams like this have a tendency of becoming closer than family. You take this deal and I'll do everything in my power to support you and help you, make sure you put in your ten years and come out squeaky clean on the other side. You have my word," said Taylor seriously, her one eye looking unwaveringly at Sophia.

Sophia stared at Taylor, looking more thoughtful than the woman would have originally given her credit for. After a few minutes she rubbed her face with her hands. "Yeah I think I got a good idea of what you're saying without actually saying it," she said. Deep breath. Then she looked at Taylor and gave her a huge wicked devil-may-care smile. "Hell what do I have to loose right? I used real bolts on the scumbags of this city for a reason. Taking things to the next level and actually being sanctioned to do it… maybe that's exactly what I've been missing. All right Hebert. You've got yourself a cape. Let's go be a bunch of desperados. Now when the fuck do I get out of here?"

o0O0o

 **A/N: I had confused Defiant with Dauntless. Fixed.**


End file.
